Jack and The Death Machine
by Dr. Faust
Summary: Jack, the Trade Thief...master of the arts of making a lot of money off the belongings of others discovers an ancient temple in the ruins of the Illmire and activates an ancient and evil machine, hellbent on destroying everything...can it be stopped before it's too late? Now with 110% more turtles.
1. Chapter 1 : Jack

The Illmire. It was once the resting place of a great civilization but now all that remains are ruins, with more and more being submerged into the swamp that mysteriously rose up to swallow the civilization whole. Legends tell of great powers that are hoarded here. The young boy was from the massive metal cities of the Energy civilization, but he was risking life and limb to collect the machines that may have been secreted away here. One must be careful…if his rouse is discovered…if his plans fail he could die out here and nobody would ever know.

Not that he had much life left in the cities. It was a dog eat dog town. You either made it or you died trying. So in reality, it wasn't that much different from struggling though this muck. He carefully dodged a pit of quicksand and deftly landed on the stone steps that lead to a temple that was half submerged. He also had to hope the natives were sitting the day out in their damn near floating towns. He looked at the sky through the gnarled trees that dotted the landscape. He had until sundown. When the sun went down a strange fog rolled in…it would poison anything that breathed it. Most of the locals have been exposed to it their whole life…it makes them sick and delirious but it's deadly if you've never experienced it before.

He certainly didn't intend to. Otherwise his name wasn't Jack, the Trade Thief.

He walked into the dim temple. There was massive structures that seemed to indicate the old gods of the Energy Empire were at least acknowledge here. Of course it could have been a plant from the machine priests in order to get more followers. He followed the winding corridor only side stepping a single threat, a lonely viper that might have bit him, had he not heard it hiss before. He adjusted a few knobs on his gauntlet, the only gift he had from his father. It was a handy multi-function, multi-purpose device that he had made a few modifications of his own to.

Jack stepped up to a large door and adjusted the gauntlet to spray a fine acid, it would eat through most rock in a few minutes. Hours for the stronger stuff, he was out of luck if it was made of metal though. Fortunately, the door was made of some kind of stone and a small hole was quickly cut. Shame, he thought these old ruins would be better protected. He knew the guys at the pub were full of it. There wasn't a single thing to be afraid of in here, minus the snake, but that's par for the course in the Illmire.

Inside the room was large and circular…the ceiling was once painted in majestic reliefs but was now withered and shattered from battles of a long ago war. There were large hunks of metal and destroyed statues everywhere. If there was anything of value in this room it would have to be well hidden. Jack's nose itched, which meant there was bound to be treasure somewhere.

He inspected first the large raised dais that held three chairs. Some kind of throne? Odd, priests usually didn't lord themselves over everyone…at least not in that fashion. They chose the 'holier than thou' route.

He examined the back of the dais and found what he had been looking for. A small little alcove just big enough for his ungauntled hand to fit into. He carefully felt inside, mindful that there was a possibility of something poisonous and hungry hiding in there. Nothing, but a small switch. He hit it. There was the hiss of a pneumatic door opening. He looked to his left and there was new door that was apparently a hidden recess in the wall. Bingo!

Inside was a massive silver structure. Some sort of machine for sure. He wouldn't be able to take it with him, but he knew where it was. There would be parts he could take and use to convince the Exploration Guild to return with a full crew to excavate it. They would even use the argument that it was Energy tech and should be returned to the Energy civilization to free it from the clutches of the Clansmen that seemed to hoard everything.

There was something odd about this machine. While its design was clearly of Energy origin it was not of Energy purpose….they usually created machines to destroy, to make more machines or generate large amounts of power for….more machines…this thing was sleek, defined. It had the symbol of the Decay civilization but it was different, older. This was a machine made by the former inhabitants of the Illmire and would be fought for…not that they had the knowledge to use it.

Leave them to scrabble over marshy patches and witch doctors. This would be his prize. He adjusted his gauntlet and sprayed a fine mist of acid on the symbol, and with a wipe from his sleeve the symbol was gone, leaving gleaming silver metal behind. He made sure to remove all of the symbols from the machine.

He nicked his finger on one of the sharp metal prongs near a symbol. A few drops of blood splattered on the metal and reflected darkly. He was going to wipe them off when his gauntlet chimed indicating that he had just enough time to get out of the Illmire before the poisonous fog rolled in. He closed up the recessed room and made his way back out, using a light from his gauntlet to make sure that nothing was in his path.

Soon he would be rich, as the Exploration Guild would share the money that the machine would net him for. First it had to be removed and then analyzed. Then sold to the highest bidder…the machine priests would probably fight to get it, as it seems to have been revered. It would be interesting to see how it plays out.

He was halfway out of the Illmire, when the drops of blood he spilled trickled their way into a collection cup on the machine. Deep in the temple, far from where anyone could reach it by modern methods as it has sunk too deeply a large whirring began…slowly at first and then faster and faster…the silver machine in the hidden room began to rotate slowly, as it did the metal prongs grew only sharper, more hungry. Remains of automotons reactivated and began to assemble themselves into new and terrifying configurations.

The Temple of Death was alive once more.


	2. Chapter 2 : Pete

Jack and the Death Machine

Chapter 2: "Pete"

All of his life all he wanted was to be a member of the Wings. Easily one of the greatest accomplishments among those that lived with the civilization of Order, to be recognized as a member of the Wings was as close as one could come to being a member of royalty. Save of course, for those precious few that were born into the royal families.

Pete's father was a member of the Wings, but was often looked down upon because he was small and scrawny. He lacked the strength or endurance of many of the other Wings officers. Pete, unfortunately inherited the same build. But like his father before him, he made up for it in heart. He never gave up and always did his best. While he wasn't a Wing soldier yet, he was well on his to being regarded as one of the soldiers that had the most potential.

There were a few aspects of his personality that were holding him back, and would probably bar him entry to the Wings. One of them was his preference for plants over people. For the people of the Order, this was a very suspect behavior and there were those that thought his green thumb marked him as a secretive member of the Growth, many of whom were portrayed in Order society as barbaric savages and tree-worshipping druids. Pete disagreed with them, but silently. He held no ill will for any member of a non-Order society and did not share in the popular opinion that they must be crushed and remolded in the Order's image. That was another aspect that was going to hold him back. Instead of going all in, he would reserve himself and show mercy. A very unusual trait for someone so keen on advancing himself.

One of the generals saw a spark of leadership in that quality, but would not speak of it until he felt that it was necessary for Pete's own sake. After all, if he started showing a softness, he would be marched out of town for having a lack of a spine. Something that he didn't exactly look forward to himself.

Pete set aside his watering can and took a look at his current crop. In small pots, ready to be planted when the ground was ready and he was sure that the cold mornings wouldn't kill his plants, were tomatoes, peppers, greens, and even some small fruit bearing bushes. He also planted a few flowers just for decoration. He would normally keep some of the fruits and vegetables for himself and give the rest away to nearby friends and family that would definitely benefit from it. While he was only a Lieutenant that allowed him to have enough living space to grow a small garden like this.

He felt something small nudge his leg. Looking down was his pet turtle, Lord Braxton Von Shellenford III. Picking him up he carried him to the small pond and set the turtle in the water, which happily zipped off in search of turtle-ly adventure. Watching the small animal joyfully dance about in the water he realized that sometimes you just have to be the turtle…true to yourself and only seeking what you want in life, not what others want for you. His reflection was cut short by the sounding of a horn. Three short blasts. That was a call to assembly. That meant something was going down that the Order felt the need to respond to. As a lieutenant he was obligated to attend.

Taking only a few minutes to don his always seemingly too big armor, he quickly joined the other militia members as they made their way towards the large hall that was used for assembly. There, one of the lesser generals would probably explain what is going on…that way if he was wrong, it was his head that was on the chopping block. He heard Cay has been on a rampage lately and there was a lot of opening positions in the higher ranks. He could only hope to be made a captain because of this.

"Any idea what's going on, Lieutenant?" asked one of the members of his battalion. "No clue, move on soldier." He said, the man gave a curt nod and joined the others in rank and file. Pete knew that there was some disdain for him among the men, but his job wasn't to make friends. It was to serve to the best of his ability. In a society built on military might, those that cannot lead; follow. Those that cannot follow or lead better leave.

In the assembly hall, he stood next to the captain, a weathered older man named Jonas. The men were eagerly whispering to each other about what the summons was for. Neither Jonas nor Pete said a word. They were both members of the military long enough to know that whispers will be silenced and they were better off not contributing to them.

An elderly man, in plainly decorated but far more lavishing robes than a mere common stepped to the podium. Using a device that amplified his voice, he cleared his throat and began. First he started with the common news, which everyone was aware of and didn't pay any attention. This was things from budgets and necessities, budget cuts for everyone but the rich people, the usual spiel.

Then he finally and with as much pomp and circumstance as he could muster got to the point everyone was eager to hear. "Ladies and Gentlemen of Order. You have long served as the knights and lamps for everyone to live an honorable life, both in combat and in times of peace. We stand at the threshold of great change for everyone…but there are dark rumors….rumors that if left unchecked could cause untold amounts of damage to ideals we have struggled for so long for." he paused to let this sink in.

The crowd was unusually silent, this particular general had kept his position as long as he had by being able to play a crowd. He was among the upper brass's favorite to send out on assemblies like this, mostly because if there was anyone who disagreed in the audience they would either be swayed or sense enough disagreement to remain silent. They considered silence agreement. It was arrogant but it was the way it has always been.

"Recon has informed us that deep within the Energy there is a movement to collect a very valuble object. One that could cause untold destruction and in the hands of those mindless miscreants it very would likely translate to the loss of life and liberty for someone. Furthermore, there is the location of the artefact to consider. It seems to remain locked inside of a forgotten temple in the wilds of the Illmire…naturally this means that those self-righteous Decay fools will be seeking this artefact as well…for the sake of Order and for the sake of everyone, we must ensure that the artefact falls only into our hands. By any means necessary. We will not seek war, but we will seek honorable avoidance of conflict."

Pete's eye twitched. He could almost hear the subliminal messaging. First, get the object, secondly declare ourselves the vassals of a peaceful resolution, then when everyone least expected it, surprise! We use the artefact to our advantage, either as leverage, as a bargaining chip, or worse, as a very real threat. Pete studied some of both the artefacts found in Energy and Decay, they were all far from friendly and seemed to either be totally destructive or totally malicious in design. He could only imagine what a 'forgotten' temple might hold, he was sure that the upper brass would be salivating at the possibilities. Peace be damned, if they got something out of it, Order would always march to war. It was their way.

The elderly general went on to mention other minor and useless facts. He ended his speech with another cut and dry segment of "you are our only hope" and departed the stage to much applause, while Jonas would never admit to it, Pete knew him well enough to know that he was uncomfortable with this. Anything that lead to war made Jonas uncomfortable. It offered Pete at least the reassurance that he wasn't the only one that thought this was a terrible idea. He would never understand the things that drove the upper brass to make their decisions and probably never will, unless he made it that far in life himself. Of course those in power were usually very good at staying there.

After the assembly was dismissed, Pete tried to raise the subject with a few of the other lieutenants but they either gave him parroted versions of the speech, told him he should just follow his orders, or told him to go water his plants. Finally, giving up on reaching anyone else he returned to their battalion barracks. The one thing about his plants that he always appreciated was that they tended to listen without much judgment, except for the one cucumber plant, it was just outright full of sass.

As he left, his departure was carefully observed by a pair of watchful eyes, seated high in the rafters. While they couldn't hear what he was saying, his general actions indicated that this soldier was mistrustful of the government. Without a sound, the spy carefully retreated from their lofty position and donning the common garb of a low-ranked soldier, departed with the remaining crowd, out in the streets they vanished among the unending flow of people, to report what they speculated to their employer.

Pete mulled things over on his own. A powerful artefact that was wanted by at least three of the civilizations. This could lead to another all-out war between the different civilizations. The last time this happened, was before much of recorded history but it nearly destroyed the entirety of all civilizations. While the Order was aware and appreciated the bounty of war, they would never allow such a war to happen again. Unless they were certain to come out on top. Any other outcome would simply be unacceptable.

While his battalion had yet to receive marching orders, he knew that it was only a matter of time before they were drawn into the fray. Whether they were willing to participate or not, it didn't matter. Not in the Order civilization. If you were told to march, you did not stop until you told otherwise. Pete found himself wondering why he couldn't have been born a turtle instead. They only ever marched where they wanted to and certainly didn't seem to be concerned with world domination. If they decided to try to take over the world, Pete would simply yield because it would be the most adorable rebellion in the history of all rebellions. It would certainly be funny to watch the brass figure that one out.

_**MEANWHILE IN A PLACE OF DARK INTENT**_

The machines continued to churn, continued to power up and change forms. This was its ultimate design, to grow ever more creative with their murderous intent. It was to be the ultimate weapon for the Decay civilization. The witch doctor stood not far from where the temple churned and witnessed the black smoke pour out of it. He shook his head. This was the day that his old mentor, a bone reader had foretold. He knew what was coming next…the temple was beyond his power to stop, but that would not stop others from trying to control it. All in vain. They would all die and perish before the unstoppable army of soulless machines. This was why Decay and Energy ceased their pact so very long ago. He lit his pipe and took a deep drag on the combined herbs within, hoping that they would still his nerves. His people were in for a very long and complicated affair. Taking three steps to catch his stride, he expertly navigated his way through the murk with unnatural speed. Death in the swamp would only make him stronger, and the swamp aware of this, yielded easily to him. Despite his usual calm within the unending marsh, he couldn't shake what he had witnessed…while there was no real government among the Decay, it was time for some favors to be paid.

_**NEXT TIME**_

_**Subterfuge! **_

_**Decay!**_

_**A hut of angry squirrels**_

_**Could it be madness? Could it be redemption!? **_

_**Be sure to check in, at the same Scroll-time on the same Scroll-channel!**_


	3. Chapter 3 : Powers Gather

Author's Note: I'll be updating the other chapters to make them more in line with what should be considered canon. You can also expect shorter chapters with -hopefully- more frequent updates. Sorry for the delay.

Life and all. Pete will instead be part of a male equivalent of the Wings division, a vanguard that is for the moment called the Eagle Formation.

If you notice any other errors please message me on here, in-game as DrFaustian or on Twitter cautionwillfire. You can also find me on ScrollsGuide with the same as my in-game name.

Thanks!

Chapter 3 : Powers Gather

by Dr. Faust

There is a village on the edge of the Ilmire located just a day's walk from Aes Moira, here the ground is palatable enough for some crops to be grown and overtime it has become a local refuge for those traveling to Aes Moira and beyond. The constant flow of visitors keeps things refreshing and the individuals who live there are more aware of things happening in the big world than those who live deep in the Ilmire.

This village also holds a secret, the final piece of the puzzle that awaits those who explore the recently rediscovered Temple. But it is unknown to all but a few. When they heard that people were discussing a powerful artefact in the murky Ilmire they met by moonlight to discuss it. Segan was a Shaman and a transplant from the wilds of Growth.

She knows all about herbal healing and uses her skills to provide comfort and protection to those that travel in the dangerous areas of the Empire. Devin served as the mayor of the small village making the decisions that seem important and necessary. Garret was the head of the village guard and was responsible for keeping the peace whenever possible.

The number of people in the village didn't warrant much in the way of security but he still took care of the drunks and kept a wary eye on travelers that may not have the village's best interest at heart. Devin cleared his throat. "We are the only real force this town has to preserve the sanity and reason that we have known for so long. If this artefact is a fraction as powerful as it seems then we could have war spilling into our territory and the peace we have known do long will be shattered

."We must be prepared to show no quarter. We will provide for anyone as best we can as we always have l, but we will need to be prepared to shut our town down." Garrett nodded. "We will do what is necessary to keep our people a priority." Segan just frowned and looked at the moon. "My whole life has been filled with violence between all of the governments. Will this world ever know true peace? I've grown so weary of treating the same wounds over and over, without even a chance for scars to form." Devin placed a hand on her shoulder.

"There will be peace enough. Wars cannot last forever. Surely there isn't that much greed and hatred in the world." Garret shook his head and looked to the night sky. "If only, you were right Devin. I feel the ground already beginning to tremble with war chants."

A THIEF UP A TREE!?

'Heh, who would have thought those stuffy old guards would have actually been able to notice me.' Jack thought to himself as he sat in a rather lofty position high up in a tree, just inside the courtyard of a local magistrate. The guards were still milling around muttering about where he could have gone. This was supposed to be a quick and dirty job, nab some artefact and gold and get out of town before he got spotted.

After all, he needs to eat while he waits for the big expedition. He made a couple quick calculations based on the guards frequency of movement. He made a small series of adjustments on his gauntlet device and switched out the small blaster attachment for one that used a small grapple hook. Once he was sure that the guards have moved, he expertly projected himself across the rooftop and down the otherside of the building.

There was no guards on this side as he had calculated that there was only three and they moved in a strange but predictable pattern. The theft was over but now the challenge was getting out alive. This wasn't even the hardest escape he's made. Another series of projected jumps and he was sliding down the outside wall and slowly walked away from the large townhouse. So that was a bust. He slipped into the busy stream of people.

He was wondering what the hold up on getting the rights to examine the new tomb was; but apparently it had something to do with other nations already starting to cry war. Naturally, if this weapon was a fraction as deadly as it seemed, it would be a bad idea for anyone to have it. But Jack wanted the fame...the glory...it would give him a foothold in a busy industry that is always looking for the next big find and nothing more. Where one could easily rise to the top and be beaten back down the next day.

That was the last thing he was going to do. If he was going to be added to the foot notes of the Energy empire he was going to make sure that it wasn't just in a single page. He was going to make a true name for himself. No matter what the cost would be. Just a few more days and the crew would begin to tear into the temple they had found. He would be able to prove his worth and they would call him genius.

As he dreamt of his fame and glory, while trying to forget about his hunger, the machines were busy at work, putting together their own plan of survival. A plan that has been several hundred years in the making.


End file.
